Disclaimer: If you read this and only see it as a tirade of a bitter single girl, go for it, at least you're reading my blog. Also, most of these experiences have occurred with strangers from class or acquaintances...if you're married and my friend, I'm not berating you.
I love the marrieds here at the BaYoU. I really do. And the engagers (technical term).
My issues with them begin with their assumption that the attachment of fiance to their name moves them to some magical upper echelon of society that I can only aspire to get to.
The fact of the matter is, that ring from Jared's only signifies that you are in love and said lover put a ring on your finger (even though said lover was your gf/bf two weeks ago and a complete stranger a month ago..but I digress, you cute little cougars)
For that, I am extremely happy for you. And that can be said without a single drop of my usual sarcasm.
Unfortunately, after the conversation ebbs and flows its way through the fact that you do, indeed, have a ring on your perfectly manicured left hand, and the fact that your mom wanted a simple get together with friends, but you want three feet high arrangements of ranunculas and daffodils..."I WANT RANUNCULAS. THERE WILL BE NO CELEBRATION OF MY LOVE WITHOUT THEM.".....it eventually ALWAYS turns to the following, directed at yours truly.
"SO, are you dating anyone?"
WITHOUT FAIL.
AM I RIGHT OR AM I RIGHT?
This is usually followed by an artificial offer to set me up with "Ben's AMAZING companion from Brazil" or "Kent's GORGEOUS cousin who just broke up with his 18-year-old gf because she just wasn't ready to settle down and all she wanted to do was make out at Squaw Peak."
Thanks, but no thanks.
I assure you, I do not need to be taken on as your charity case.
The fact that you have a ring on your finger and I do not does not create an elephant in the room that you need to address. I like hearing about your wedding.
The fact is, I'm happy.
And that is not just a daily affirmation.
I love my friends, I love my freedom, I love the fact that I do not feel bad about spending entirely too much on clothes.
No, I don't want to grow into an old shrew of a woman with a menagerie of basset hounds.
But, since when was 22 a shrew?
I'm fine.
Thanks for the concern you cute little marrieds and engagers...but Ben's companion is probably a frosted-tipped, summer sales tool anyway.
I love the marrieds here at the BaYoU. I really do. And the engagers (technical term).My issues with them begin with their assumption that the attachment of fiance to their name moves them to some magical upper echelon of society that I can only aspire to get to.
The fact of the matter is, that ring from Jared's only signifies that you are in love and said lover put a ring on your finger (even though said lover was your gf/bf two weeks ago and a complete stranger a month ago..but I digress, you cute little cougars)
For that, I am extremely happy for you. And that can be said without a single drop of my usual sarcasm.
Unfortunately, after the conversation ebbs and flows its way through the fact that you do, indeed, have a ring on your perfectly manicured left hand, and the fact that your mom wanted a simple get together with friends, but you want three feet high arrangements of ranunculas and daffodils..."I WANT RANUNCULAS. THERE WILL BE NO CELEBRATION OF MY LOVE WITHOUT THEM.".....it eventually ALWAYS turns to the following, directed at yours truly.
"SO, are you dating anyone?"
WITHOUT FAIL.
AM I RIGHT OR AM I RIGHT?
This is usually followed by an artificial offer to set me up with "Ben's AMAZING companion from Brazil" or "Kent's GORGEOUS cousin who just broke up with his 18-year-old gf because she just wasn't ready to settle down and all she wanted to do was make out at Squaw Peak."
Thanks, but no thanks.
I assure you, I do not need to be taken on as your charity case.
The fact that you have a ring on your finger and I do not does not create an elephant in the room that you need to address. I like hearing about your wedding.
The fact is, I'm happy.
And that is not just a daily affirmation.
I love my friends, I love my freedom, I love the fact that I do not feel bad about spending entirely too much on clothes.
No, I don't want to grow into an old shrew of a woman with a menagerie of basset hounds.
But, since when was 22 a shrew?
I'm fine.
Thanks for the concern you cute little marrieds and engagers...but Ben's companion is probably a frosted-tipped, summer sales tool anyway.
2 comments:
Amen sista. YOU GO GIRL.
And, I'm not even offended =)
you make me smile :)
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